I came out of the bathroom with my stomach completely empty, everything I’d eaten thrown up.
One glance at my reflection—skin stretched over bones—made me sick with shame.
The phone rang.
A local number I didn’t recognize.
I answered, and an arrogant, sharp voice pierced through the line.
“Fiona, take my advice. End your bond with Evan yourself. It’s better for both of you.”
End our bond?
Fine.
“Selena,” I said, my voice flat, “since when you started running a business breaking mates apart?”
Her tone spiked.
“Evan doesn’t love you! Sitting in the Luna’s seat won’t change that!”
I laughed softly. The sound slid down the line like a blade.
“I will end the bond.”
Silence. Then Selena’s shocked voice:
“Even if you do, his heart—wait, what? Did you really say yes?”
I hung up, let
